Rocky

 Putting an old dog down

Aurelia D Wallace

When the time comes

And the vet says no hope,

I could lift your painful body

On your favorite rug to the back seat

(You loved a joy ride in the car)

And start this kinder journey.

Even the steel table in the final room,

Glistening like a dream's epiphany,

Is no longer cold to touch.

While he readies the needle, I pat

Your softest hair(so soft so many times

To bury a weeping face in) and lay

My fingers on your quiet pulse.

Your great sweet eyes lock mine:

Thank you for this. 

A little jab, a minor ceremony in my heart;

Eyes mist, then close; the pulse and all

The suffering are gone.

I could do this simple thing for you

If you were not

My mother.

Jordon taking our dog Rocky on his final trip March 5th.